


Come with me if you want to live

by squarephoenix



Category: Dark Matter (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Time Travel Fix-It, season 2 episode 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 18:12:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7855843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squarephoenix/pseuds/squarephoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three, Four, and Five use the blink device in an act of desperation and discover an unintended effect of traveling through space-time that reunites them with a lost friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come with me if you want to live

**Author's Note:**

> When they mentioned space-time blah blah I was all YES!!! commence operation save One! but *le sigh* that does not seem to be the case. I started this while in the middle of episode 7 and wanted to finish this before the next episode but um that didn't work.   
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy. And all mistakes are my own.

“I thought you knew what you were doing, kid!” Three shouted over the blaring alarms.

The security alert blared around the group as soon as Three, Four, and Five removed the blink device, secured in an attaché case, from its place in the vault they had infiltrated. Things had gone so smoothly beforehand that of course with their luck it would inevitably go straight in the toilet when the job was so close to an end.

With comms on radio silent, there was no way to inform their ride to come for immediate extraction. Although with the volume of the alarm system, it was possible Two and Six could hear as they hovered outside out of sight in the Marauder.

“It must've been on a pressurized sensor pad.” Five concluded with an apologetic grimace.

“We should forego finding the blame and figure a way out.” Four said, looking back and forth in a battle ready stance at the two sealed exits on opposite sides of the room.

They had dealt with the security and other personnel on the floor, so any further security being dispatched would take a bit longer to arrive to their location. 

Five shook off her error in judgement regarding the blink device and worked fast on overriding the sealed door on the right. The young tech genius patted herself on the back for leaving a backdoor open in the building’s mainframe prior to entering the vault. It seemed like a good backup plan while she had searched through for information on the blink device. Boy was she right. In a manner of seconds the door slid open. 

“We might just live long enough to make it home.” Three said as they raced down the hall. “Or not.” He retracted when upon entering the staircase there were guards marching from the above and below to their floor.

The group returned to the hallway. Four kicked the door panel beside the entrance to buy some time, probably in vain since there was a panel on the other side. But they were desperate for anything that might give them an edge.

“Elevator?” Three suggested for an alternate route.

“Even with my skills, there's no guarantee they won't hack it and we’ll be stuck.” Five rushed out.

“Shit!” Three kicked over a trashcan. Although they were in cloned bodies and death wasn't anything to fear, they had a powerful device in hand and vital information - all of which would be lost if they return to their original bodies without a transit pod.

Five stared at the mess of the overturned trash bin. “What floor are we on again?” She asked as the motors in her mind acted fast. “The third floor.” The young tech genius answered her own question. “I think we ought to throw out the trash.”

The path was clear to the garbage chute. A large enough size to accommodate the grown men. Four went inside first with Five clinging to his back. Three followed Four's action, pushing against walls of the garbage shaft to prevent from plummeting too fast. They slid down easily enough, any friction burn was counteracted by gloved hands.

A small, unattended ship for meant for garbage disposal was stationed at the bottom for the group to seize. Another fast hack by Five opened the hangar bay window and gave them full control of the ship. 

Three took the helm of the ship. Even without his helpful post-its on what not to press, the gruff man managed to start the ship for take off. And also turned on the news feed, which he totally meant to do. Things were looking good for escape. So by the rule the galaxy had written for the Raza, things had to go in the toilet. It was bad enough they just came out of a garbage chute.

The security team surrounded them with heavy weapons. Even if they ran down the ones in front, the cavalry in the back would pick up the slack. 

But as with the universe constantly throwing shit at the Raza crew, Five once again pulled an ace out of her sleeve to save the day. Or possibly kill them all depending on their shifty luck.

“What're you doing, short stack?” He asked as he saw in the corner of his eye Five tinkering with the panel on his side. He kept watch for an opening to exploit outside the window, but knew he chances were incredibly slim to find one. Alicia Reynaud was not going to let her device go.

“Um… doing them a favor and testing out their machine.” She responded, wiring the device to the ship’s drive system.

At that admission, Three turned in his seat to look incredulously at Five. “The one we have no idea how it works or if it works?” Three glanced at Four, hoping for a similar look of disbelief. At best, Four gave one of minor concern. Three’s eyes went back at the hopeless, grim view of armed security locked and loaded. “What the hell, if we blink into the sun at least they won't have it either.”

The preparation was finalized just in time for them to hear the security forces to order the infiltrators to power down and surrender.

Five sat in her seat, pausing midway as she secured her seat belt. “The sun? Oh. I hadn't really thought about that.” 

“Too late now, kid! Away we go!” Three slammed down the start button.

The ship whirred and pulsated. Its lights inside flickered. The news anchor describing a man killed on a station by a knife became garbled unintelligible noise. It felt as if the ship was infected with a deadly virus. Three tightly gripped the controls as he closed his eyes and thought of the possibility of seeing One again in the afterlife. 

Would One look like Derrick Moss or Jace Corso? Would they have both sets of memories intact, pre and post memory wipe? Would One forgive him for their last moments together?

And just as they thought their demise was imminent when Three opened his eyes the view was of bright stars shining in the far distance instead of weapons aimed at the group.

“Sonova bitch. It actually worked.” Three said softly. “And no need for sunscreen.”

Four cleared his throat and ungripped his tight hold on the armrest of his chair, carefully not to show that the experience managed to rattle the stoic man. “So now that we've established we're not in the sun... where exactly are we?”

Three tapped on the console to find out but before he could relay their new location Five spoke.

“I think the better question is when are we?” She said ominously then pointed to the screen displaying the news. 

There they were on the screen. Breaking news about the crew of the Raza being captured by Galactic Alliance.

It didn't long to understand what happened. The blink device did it's job by sending them to another location as indicated by the navigation system but it also went the extra mile to send them back in time.

Three's eyes widen at a sudden realization. His hands wasted no time in charting their next destination and pushing on the thruster control. It was a destination that was surprisingly close by. And it wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be. They arrived back in time just before the death of one of their own - One. And it would not happen again on Three's watch.

Three had committed the details of One's murder to memory. The building and room number One stayed in. The time of his death. The ammo type used to execute him. 

He could prevent One's death from happening. Time was on his side. Quite literally.

\\\\\\\

Getting past the building security was no big problem, especially after they infiltrated Alicia Reynaud's fortress. And when was breaking and entering ever a big problem with Five constantly hacking and rewiring her way through any electronic device.

They entered the room to stare in wonder at One standing in the middle of the hotel room packing a suitcase with a sparkling cityscape in the background. The man wore a pale blue dress shirt tucked in perfectly pressed khaki colored pants. Three couldn't help his response and laughed loudly, catching the unaware man's attention. He was unsure whether the laughter was from the sight of One in high society wear after months of battle-ready, dark clothing or just seeing the formerly dead crew member alive and well.

Four strided up to the confused looking man to give a handshake and a soft pat on the arm. “It is a relief to see you in good health, friend.” Four offered a rare smile.

“Woah, you two! Get a room! I've never seen Four get so handsy.” Three scolded in humor. He stayed back by the door, unable to give in to his emotions. Denying the burning desire for something more tangible than simply staring at his once lost crew mate.

One’s nose twitched as Five came within inches and a frown sprouted on his face. “What's that smell?”

“Shut up, pretty boy, and give the girl a hug.” Three said gruffly with his arms crossed, discreetly sniffing his clothes. That garbage chute was a lifesaver but it came at a price.

One did as commanded and enveloped Five in a warm embrace. He was surprised to feel her squeeze so intensely. She seemed so happy to see him so soon after their time together a day ago. But he couldn't complain and he wouldn't turn down a hug from the youngest crew member, giving back as good as he got. It felt like she needed the comfort.

She pulled back and immediately began rambling to One about the changes they've gone since he's been gone. But how could so many changes happen in such a brief amount of time? “I think Android has a thing for Three. She would  _ not _ stop commenting on his suit. There's also Devon and Nyx, I guess they're part of the crew now. Oh and --”

“Easy, Five. I'm still stuck on how you're all here. Um, did Six get you out already?” He asked of the youngest member, placing his hands on her shoulders. Then he turned to the other men wearing a guard's uniform and some kind of red technician coat - outfits from their previous escapade. “Did you both escape? Where's Two? Did you leave her behind? Did something happen to her?”

“Geez, use your own advice and take it easy.” Three sighed. How do they even explain what happened? Without rambling like Five. “You died. You were alone... here. When you needed m-- when you needed us the most… you were alone. Executed right here.” As Three looked down at the pristine floor, he hadn't realized he wandered to the spot where One's blood soaked body was found.

 

The intercom system alerted him of a new visitor at the door.

“Uh. It's probably just Felicia - my lawyer.” One informed them numbly as he went to the door, most likely to get rid of her.

Clearly One didn't understand the gravity of the situation. Time travel was a hard pill to swallow and a premonition of your untimely death was even harder. But One would just have to get over it and swallow. 

“You idiot!” Three hissed in a low volume. “What part of you will be executed don't you get?” Three could hear his voice crack but he couldn't care less about sounding vulnerable. He had watched that video feed of Corso coming into this room and shooting One multiple times in the chest until he collapsed on the floor with a final shot to the head to finish the job.

Rage flowed through Three's veins. Brandishing the one of the guns stolen from the guards on their last op, he opened the door and fired a shot before more than a flash of confusion could feature on the assassin’s face.

“Corso? Is he -- did you kill him?” One scrunched his brows in concern as he looked at the man who mirrored his face. 

“Nah, it was a stun gun.” Three had a murderous look fixed on the unconscious hitman, ironically who looked exactly like the person he raced to save. “We need the bastard alive for answers.” They had never extracted much information from Corso before Two claimed her rightful retribution. To be honest, Three would love to extend the same courtesy - a clean shot to the head - to be done with Corso once and for all. But priorities. Three could be level headed despite his trigger happy reputation. Plus, he wanted -- no, he  _ needed _ to know exactly who was behind the hit on his -- on One.

“So you are really from the future.” One asked in awe, accepting what was always believed to be a thought of fiction - time travel. “W-what happens now?”

“Well, I'm dragging this rat bastard inside before anyone sees and tying him up. You all can figure the rest.” Three answered and went to make good on his word, dragging the hitman by the feet out of the hall and deeper into the room. 

“We need a transit transfer to link back with our original selves and preserve what we know about the blink device, Reynaud, Nyx’s brother… The future. And we need to keep this safe.” Five lifted the attache case holding the blink device to show One what she’s referring to. 

“Forgot to mention we're actually clones.” Three added before he ripped the bedsheets into thick stripes and began binding Corso's legs and wrists.  It took every ounce of strength not to use those sheets to strangle Corso and crush his windpipe.

“Okay. Not only are you from the future, but you are also clones.” One scrubbed the side of his face with his palm. “Okay. But all of you are in prison… How can we do the transfer?”

“We break out. Obviously.” Three waved a hand around his body, their mere presence was proof of the future event.

“Okay. Do we do anything? Did I do something to help?” One implored, wanting to make sure this wrinkle in time didn’t affect his friends’ escape.

Four took the lead. “You had no effect on our escape.” Omitting the fact that One was already dead to be of any assistance to their escape. “In fact, we need to allow the events to unfold as did before.” 

“Even Six being shot?” Five pondered. One widen his eyes at the revelation.

“He will live.” Four reminded, comforting their worries. “Everything will work out as they have already.” 

“Okay.” The word was quickly becoming One’s catchphrase that evening. “Um, so no more messing with the timeline.” 

“Our originals will be out of prison soon. Catching up to them won’t be a cause for concern since we know where they will go. And it would be best to find them before we leave Arax behind.”

Another one they let slip through the cracks for useful information. The traitor was vital in their escape so they would show mercy on Arax and not space him. Whether they didn’t cut off a pinky or two would be dependant on the man’s cooperation.

Three stood beside One after securing Corso, purposely stepping on the hitman’s hand on the short walk over. “Hey, pretty boy. You got access to your funds? We’re gonna need it to stay undetected. Sorry to disappoint you but it looks like you're stuck with us again.” And Three was planning on never letting him out of his sight. They split apart for a brief period and look what happened. Not ever again.

“I think I'm safer with you all anyway.” One showed no signs of protest or regret. He untucked his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, dissolving his pristine preppy appearance. 

Three thought it was a step in the right direction. One shouldn't look the part of some silver spoon elitist. One was someone who didn't sit on the sidelines, someone who narrowly escaped death several times, someone who never backed down to a certain gun-toting loudmouth with a somewhat loose morality. No. For better or worse, One was and will always be one of the Raza.

Bumping shoulders with the man who just cheated death, Three asked in what he hoped was a light tone. “Who’d you manage to piss off in a day?”

“I think Corso here just confirms Darius is trying to kill me and might've been behind my wife's death. He's the acting chief of my company. Derrick's company.” One scrunched his face at his correction. He was so adamant about finding justice for the woman who was his wife in a forgotten life but he wasn't as sure if he had the same sense of responsibility to the company he was technically CEO of. 

Being Derrick Moss, the CEO of CoreLactic, meant revoking his membership to the Raza. A big wig couldn't very well associate with wanted criminals, could he? The scenario of abandoning his friends didn't sit well with One.

“And so our ever growing list of enemies expands one more. Soon there won’t be safe place to reside in the galaxy.” Four quipped.

Three’s mouth hung open slightly. “Did… did ninja warrior make a joke? And I thought the time traveling would be high point of weirdness for the day.” 

“Just an observation. Whether you found it humorous is purely relative.” 

“It won't be easy convincing our originals. You guys did try to kill me when you forgot who I was.” Five glared lightly at Three and Four, both of whom wore expressions of remorse.

“You all tried to kill her?!” Time travel and assassination attempts One could handle but trying to kill their youngest crew member was inconceivable.

Three made a pained look. “That was the old  _ old _ us, kid. After some gun pointing and some DNA testing, I'm sure we'll --  _ they'll _ be able to accept our extraordinary tale. So let’s get this show on the road before they send someone else for pretty boy.”

\\\\\\\\\

After withdrawing funds from the vast Moss fortune, the group set themselves up in a luxury hotel under false names. Five made sure to wipe any traces of them on the security feeds and One paid extra to the staff for their discretion. Being on the run didn't mean they had to live like they were on the run.

Three stepped out of the shower in his suite, free of the stench that lingered on him all the way through an interdimensional pocket of space-time or whatever. Going back through time and saving a friend from certain death should have been enough to never be surprised again, but seeing a certain man in his room staring at the towel clad time traveler disproved that theory. 

“What's up, pretty boy?” He casually began drying his hair with a spare towel. As much as Three enjoyed One’s appraisal of his body, there were was a weirdness lingering from their last encounter. An encounter that Three thought really was truly their last. 

Although the real traitor had been revealed to be Six, there was still the issue of the severed thin string of trust they had with each other. Tension was high at the time and people were dropping like flies, one by one. Three had once told One that the younger man thought too much with his heart instead of his head and it was dangerous. 

If only the gruff fugitive had thought with his own heart and trusted One then perhaps they would’ve figured out the truth sooner.  

One awkwardly cleared his throat and busied him by fetching some shopping bags that were not there before Three went into the shower.

“Wow. Maybe I should start calling you ‘sugar daddy’ now, instead of ‘pretty boy’.” Three drawled. Humor was defense mechanism after all.

He gave one of the bags to Three, ignoring the toweled man’s playful suggestion and other distracting things. “It's crazy how easy and fast it is to get things as soon as you say you don't care what it'll cost.” 

It was clothing, Three discovered. “Are you trying to fix me up to be your hunky trophy wife?” 

The outfit was a top quality design and looked perfectly fitted for him, even though no one had measured him. They must've used that, as the robot described, snug bodysuit for a reference. Three hoped these clothes didn't violate him in the same way as the bodysuit. 

“I don't think any amount of money could turn you into respectable arm candy.” One remembered their brief excursion off the ship when Three was slapped by a prospective date.

Three huffed out a laugh, inwardly agreeing. 

His newly purchased clothes were more of a tactical design with bits of camouflage pattern thrown in with the jet black that gave a look of a bodyguard to the illustrious elite. He shifted his inspection of the new garments to his benefactor’s changed appearance. One had ditched his dorky clothes to darker colors and more athletic designs, perfect for moving fast and kicking ass with a style of class. Oh yeah - his One was back to normal. Three allowed himself to claim the younger man this time, if only in his head. He blamed it on the massaging showerheads. As in multiple showerheads beating against his body in the best way.

Tired of being on display, Three grabbed the Henley in the bag to at least conceal his upper body and was satisfied with the comfortable fit. It hugged his body complimentary without constricting him like a cobra.

Next, Three noticed the guns sprawled out on the coffee table and moved to inspect. There was nothing there that compared to his rail gun he affectionately named Bubba, but they would pack a punch should the need call for it. And would be worthwhile addition to his collection back on the Raza. His original would be pleased.

One should have left after making the delivery. He could have even had the concierge service make the delivery instead, he was certainly paying enough for the added request. But something inside kept him from leaving Three to his own devices.

“Uhm, I didn't say before but those were some impressive piloting skills. Been practising?” One had noticed Three's new piloting skill. Well, new to the younger man.

Three puffed his chest at the compliment. “Yeah. Muscle memory has gotten me only so far. Had to teach this dog a new trick.” Plus, the flight training helped take his mind off going over the details of One's death. If only slightly.

“How long has it been since I...?” 

Three knew what One meant. Before their separation, the bearded man wasn't known for cruising the skies. That duty usually fell on Two or Six. So obviously it was easy to see that a tangible amount of time had passed since One died.

“Too long.” Three tersely answered.

A silence lingered in the air as the two men stood. Words begging to said remained unspoken. It was a game of who'd go first.

Three felt exposed and it wasn't due to his lower half being wrapped only in a towel. He was a man who never backed down from a challenge and simply stating his feeling couldn't be harder than the extreme situations he faced in the past. He didn’t want to squander the second chance to release what has been weighing on him.

They spoke in unison. 

“Look there's something I gotta say, pretty boy.”

“I want to apologize for everything that happened.”

Three was bewildered to know he wasn’t the only one with a confession looming over waiting to be said. “Hold up, you wanna apologize to me?”

“I do.” One wetted his lips with his tongue before continuing, not missing the way Three’s eyes followed the movement. “I think I understand why Six did what he did - going back to what his old self tried to accomplish, putting the crew of the Raza away. I realized I tried to do the same by continuing Derrick Moss' plot for revenge. I was feeling his pain and anger but it wasn’t mine. Not really.”

One had plenty of opportunity to strike at the alleged murderer. Every time he had a gun pointed at Three, One could never fulfill his vengeance because it wasn’t his vengeance to be fulfilled.

“You know I'm not that guy anymore, right?” Three frowned. The way his past self acted so coldly about spacing Five was proof. He didn’t ever want those memories back if he showed such a callous disregard to a kid like Five.

“I know. I was holding you to sins of a past you can’t even remember.” A crime the bearded man didn't appear to commit by the evidence One uncovered. “I had never done the same with any of the others. And I am sorry I did it to you, Three.” One apologized, holding his gaze with Three’s.

Even if Marcus Boone had committed the crime, it wasn’t Three who should be held accountable - as odd as that may sound. The slate was wiped clean for all six crew members of the Raza, maybe not with the galaxy at large but with one another. And who knows what Derrick Moss had to do to prove he belonged on board the Raza. It was time to let go of the past.

When One spoke to Six earlier after he'd been released, he told the GA officer that his eyes were opened and he was seeing things more clearly - maybe for the first time. One of the things he was seeing clearly was Three. Not only could he always count on his crew to save him, he could always count on Three in particular. The guy defied the laws of time and saved One's life. Unintentionally or not. That meant something.

“You're not some killer who destroyed my life. And I’m not the man whose wife was taken from him. You are not that guy… you're Three and I would fight beside you any day.” He would risk his life if needed. But he couldn’t say that.

Three was speechless. He couldn’t conjure up a joke or snide remarks. Luckily, One filled in Three’s usual role.

“Just don't expect me not to argue with you though. You are still an ass.” One stated matter of factly.

A hearty laugh sounded from the smiling toweled man. “I wouldn't expect any less, pretty boy.”

One smiled back then remembered he wasn’t the only one with something to confess. “Hey. I kinda cut you off before. What did you want to tell me?”

It was now or never to let One know how he really felt. Of course that didn’t mean Three couldn’t do it in his typical joking manner. It would give him a little room to wiggle out. “You know, there will be less space on board with the new crew members. Any objections to you and me sharing a room?” He winked suggestively.

One rolled his eyes but wore a small smile.

Three sobered his playful tone and moved closer to take One’s hand into his own, keeping his sights on the entwined fingers. It would be hard to say this looking into those kind brown eyes. “I already know you thought I was behind your wife's -- Moss’s wife death. But you still didn't do anything to me. And even before the memory wipe you didn't do anything. That has mean something. Right?” Three finished with a question and mustered up the courage to look One in the eyes.

One raised his free hand to cup the side of Three’s face then tentatively presses his lips against the bearded man’s. Three pressed his other hand into the small of One’s back to move them closer. He moved back, mere inches away.

“Don’t you ever leave me again, One.” Three whispered so quietly even in their close proximity to each other One barely heard him.

One couldn’t make that promise given their lifestyle but he could show how much he wanted Three with their next kiss. He could show him how much he trusted him as he lead him to the bedroom, tugging on Three’s towel ready to give his heart as well as his body. And he would show him how they would never hide how much they meant to each other as they met up with Four and Five the next morning, hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Eh, I don't know I feel about the ending...  
> And I think I mixed up the timeline of Devon's death...


End file.
